


summer slipped us underneath her tongue

by seamanthedog



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Crushes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Growing Up AU, Growing Up Together, Kids AU, M/M, Modern AU, Slow Burn, but shiro is like 17, lance is emotional and cries unabashedly, minor sheith, teenagers au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-30 23:50:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12663984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seamanthedog/pseuds/seamanthedog
Summary: It was as if they had always been neighbors. Summer was their domain and they ruled over the outside. No dirt lay untouched and no bug lay undiscovered.Keith had become as much a part of the fabric of his family as any one of his siblings. They weren’t just Lance and Keith. They were Lance&Keith. Rivals. Fast friends. Summer’s boys.There will be laughing and late night visits, learning to light fireworks, and holding their breath until their lungs scream. There will be school, endless homework, and late night studying. They will make friends and do vaguely illegal things to prove who is “tougher.” Always they will learn to communicate rather than fight, but still fight sometimes because they are growing up and growing into themselves. There will be first kisses, first dates, first coming outs (and seconds), and processing feelings when they are hard to process (or notice at all). This is about friendship and love and growing up.





	summer slipped us underneath her tongue

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Klance Big Bang over [here!](https://klancebb2017.tumblr.com/)
> 
> With my amazing artist's work [here!](http://daves-art.tumblr.com/post/167232188961/cover-for-hunkitups-fic-for-the-klancebb2017) Thank you for being patient with me as I struggled to write this and give you something to work with.
> 
> Also, I'd like to thank [sterlingag](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SterlingAg/profile), the real mvp for letting me vent about this fic and how I was never gonna finish it lmao.
> 
> I used [this tumblr user's](https://daddyroboarm.tumblr.com/FAQ) suggestions when writing about Lance's family, but I'm not Cuban so if I wrote anything incorrectly please let me know!
> 
> **the description summary does not directly outline or follow how the fic unfolds fyi. It's kind of a blueprint that I started with and then changed around.

6

 

 

Lance had lived in the same house since he was born. That was a long time, or he thought it was, since he was already six years old. Not a lot happened between then and now, his mom and dad had two more kids—Marisa and Luis—and life got a little more crowded.  They redecorated half of his room and wedged a bunk-bed into the corner. Lance didn’t want his two older brothers in his room. They fought all the time and liked to play with his toys—always breaking them—but his mom took him aside and used her quiet voice so he understood. The quiet voice was soft and sometimes made Lance cry, but it was a good cry. 

“ _Mijo_ , I need you to be a big boy now. Sometimes we need to share with others even when we don’t want to. You understand, right?” Lance nodded even when he still didn’t completely. 

Keith moved in next door a few weeks before Lance started kindergarten. The moving truck had come the night before, so the usual curiosity of the neighborhood was missed. The sun was hot and created a hazy steam across the concrete. To stave off the heat, his dad hooked up the sprinkler and turned it up. The water was ice cold but felt good as they ran through it. Dante and Tomas demanded a game of tag. Lance didn’t want to play, but Luis and Marisa weren’t any fun—being only one and two—so he uncrossed his arms and let himself be “it” first. 

Lance chased after Dante, always the slower of his brother’s, and tried not to slip in the wet grass. His feet slapped hard but sure and the slight squelch of mud that wedged between his toes caused him to shriek with laughter. As Lance gained on Dante, he swerved at the last second. Lance’s feet were too slick. A scream died in his throat when he pitched forward onto the concrete driveway in front of him. 

In between the pain of scraped knees and hands along with some groaning, a shadow fell over him. Lance looked to see a short boy with raven black hair. 

“What are you doing?” The boy scowled down at him. He seemed angry about something.  

Lance struggled to his feet and brushed the dirt off of him. His hands hurt, the scrapes stinging, but he bit back the tears as best he could. “I was playing. Can’t you see?”  

The other boy opened his mouth to say something but the loud bang of an open door startled them both. Lance glanced over at a tall man in army clothes who swung an intense, cold gaze over to them. 

“Keith, get in here now and help unpack.” The man didn’t yell, his tone was even and harsh though. Lance glanced down as if he were in trouble. The other boy, Keith, flinched and hurried toward his house. Lance only peeked up once to watch Keith slip inside and met his eyes before he disappeared behind a closed door. It wasn’t until his mother called for him that he remembered his cuts and the still running sprinkler. With one last glance toward the house next door, he turned back towards his mother and yelled that his hands hurt. 

From there it was as if they had always been neighbors. Summer was their domain and they ruled over the outside. No dirt lay untouched and no bug lay undiscovered.  

Keith had become as much a part of the fabric of his family as any one of his siblings. They weren’t just Lance and Keith. They were Lance&Keith. Rivals. Fast friends. Summer’s boys. 

 * 

The summer before the start of kindergarten solidified their friendship. Or their attempt to keep Commander Rocketblaster—the one and only pet Lance kept alive, lost, and released in the span of two days—did. 

“Lance look!” The lilt of curiosity and excitement in Keith’s voice drew his gaze. Lance picked himself up from the spot where he was drawing his brothers running from Godzilla across the sidewalk. 

Keith’s hands were cupped together tight and Lance stepped closer; his own curiosity and slight apprehension mounting. Keith looked too excited and that either meant it would be fun or he’d get in trouble—often it meant both.  

“It’s a lizard.”  

“No way! Let me see!” Lance crowded closer. He always wanted to catch one himself, but he wasn’t ever quick enough. Something unpleasant slipped inside his belly and made him frown at the thought of Keith catching one first. It passed just as quick when he caught Keith’s grin—happy and too pleased by half. It was Lance’s favorite grin because it meant they were going to have fun.  

“I can’t, it’s trying to escape! Find me a bucket or something, let’s keep it.”  

Lance rushed off into his house. He was careful not to run too fast or be too loud as he dug through his kitchen for a tupperware container. It was almost too easy to sneak back out, but Lance took his luck wherever he could find it. They stuck the lizard into the container along with fistfuls of grass and leaves, a couple of sticks, and some flies trapped in the window screens. Lance handed the lid off to Keith and they sealed it with proud looks.  

Keith held the container up so they could both see. “What should we name it?”  

“Godzilla!” 

Keith’s face screwed up. “No, it’s got to be original! What about Alpha Commander?” 

Lance frowned and shook his head. “No, that sounds boring. Ace Rocketblaster!” 

“What about Commander Rocketblaster?” Keith looked at him, eyebrows raised and smile bright with the question, while Lance narrowed his eyes in thought. Keith’s smile wilted around the edges when he didn’t reply right away so Lance nodded his head rapidly. 

“Okay, but I want to keep him for tonight.” He watched the protest build up in Keith’s eyes before the tupperware was shoved into his hands. 

“Fine, but don’t let him out! And don’t tell your parents.” 

“I’m not stupid, I know!” Lance huffed indignantly. Of course, he knew not to tell. 

Keith looked back at his house and started toward it quickly. “Okay, well, I gotta go so be good to him.” Before he could protest, Keith raced toward his door and disappeared inside.  

The next day saw Commander Rocketblaster looking worse for wear. He barely moved when they poked at his tupperware cage and Lance almost cried in despair. They were up in his shared room so they had to be quiet in case they were caught.  

“He’s dead! What do we do? We need to find a doctor quick!”  

Keith just rolled his eyes and looked at him in exasperation. “No, silly. If we take him to a doctor they’ll take him away from us. Maybe he’s just tired and needs some air?”  

Lance calmed down some and nodded, “I guess…” He grabbed at the tupperware lid and opened it up.  

“Careful!” Keith hissed and before Lance could retort that he _was_ being careful, Commander Rocketblaster launched himself up. Lance startled and dropped the tupperware, Commander Rocketblaster and all. It was a mad scramble. Keith threw himself after Commander Rocketblaster as he raced across the floor and beneath the twin bunkbeds. Lance skidded on the floor to try to catch him too. At the sounds from his bedroom, his two older brother’s burst in. The sight of the tupperware and various bits of grass on the floor was incriminating, but the sudden rush of a lizard across their floor was even worse. 

They jumped back with a scream. But Keith was on his feet in a flash and shut the door, careful so it didn’t slam. Commander Rocketblaster disappeared beneath a dresser.  

After that it was a race against time, or their mother coming up to check on them. Lance had to bribe his brothers with his Halloween haul for the year just so they wouldn’t tell.  

Keith dropped to his knees again and attempted to grab the lizard. They tried to move the dresser, but it was too heavy. After a few more exhausted attempts, they all ended up on the floor in varying states of disappointment.  

Tomas sighed and stood up. “What if you just leave the bugs out in the container and wait for him to get hungry?”

“That could take too long. We need him now so mom doesn’t find him!” Lance frowned, unsure of what to do. 

“Well, I don’t know then.” With that Tomas walked out, Dante not far behind, both too bored and not wanting to get in trouble to continue helping. 

Lance looked at Keith in anguish. “What are we going to do?” Keith’s eyebrows furrowed and he stared hard at the floor.  

“Do you have a broom? Maybe we can scoot him out.” It sounded like a good idea to him so Lance hurried down the stairs. He grabbed the broom in the closet and on his way back he passed his mom.  

“Lance, what are you doing with the broom?” 

He froze on the steps. “Uh—just cleaning.” 

Skepticism caused her eyebrows to raise. “Cleaning...you sure?” 

“Yep!” She just shook her head and Lance took his chance to bolt. When he got back he shut his door, loud enough for it to make a sound, and Keith startled by looking up from his position on the floor. 

“Shh!” 

Lance grinned all sheepish and joined Keith on the floor with the broom. 

“Should I just stick it under and try to push him out?” 

Keith shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”  

Without further instruction, Lance got on his belly and positioned the broom. “Get the tupperware ready quick!” He stuck his tongue out in concentration and used the bristle side of the broom to push Commander Rocketblaster towards him. The lizard zigzagged and Lance blocked him from going out the wrong way. 

“Come on, you can do it!”  

Keith cheered him on and with some effort he pushed the lizard out. Keith was quick and snatched him up inside. Right at that moment, his door opened and his mom entered. It was too late to hide the evidence.  

“Is this what you call cleanup, _Mijo_?” She was using her stern voice and Lance automatically looked down.  

“Mom, we were just trying to take care of him!” Lance glanced to the side and noticed Keith’s stricken look and fidgety steps. 

“Well, you can take care of him by putting him outside. He’s probably frightened to death.”

“But mom—!” 

“No, but moms.” She moved further into the room and shut the door. She kneeled beside Lance and touched his back gently while also looking at Keith. “I know you really want to keep him, but he’s wild, and a tupperware container isn’t a good home for him. What if he already has a family, would you want to be taken from yours and put someplace strange?” Lance wanted to cry but she smoothed her hand down his back as he shook his head. Keith shook his head too and looked up enough to meet her eyes tentatively.  

“Now, why don’t you go say goodbye and let him go home, okay?”

 “Okay.” They said it in unison which brought a small smile to both their faces. 

 “Good. And then you can help clean up, _Mijo_.” Lance’s mom stood and kissed his head and did the same for Keith who looked a little star struck at first. She smiled at them both and then walked out.  

 They released Commander Rocketblaster in a quiet ceremony. All of Lance’s siblings were there even if Marisa and Luis didn’t know what was happening. But it was nice. Commander Rocketblaster disappeared into the grass without a look back and Lance held in his tears although his voice was watery.

“I’m going to miss him.”

 Keith looked at him and then reached out to give him a hug. Keith wasn’t crying but Lance heard the sniffle before he spoke, “Me too.” 

That evening his mother made flan and Keith got to spend the night. They were both sad about Commandor Rocketblaster, but the dessert and whispered stories before bed helped. 

 7

Not long after their fateful encounter with Commander Rocketblaster, Lance and Keith started school together. School began Lance’s love-hate relationship with learning. Science and sometimes learning to write out words made going worthwhile. His brother’s made it a nuisance a lot. He made some more friends, Hunk and Pidge, and together with Keith the four of them ruled at recess. They made it fun. Keith made it better.

But school passed, and summer came.. Scraped knees and climbing trees dominated, chores were added and summer reading, but it was always about the adventure. 

 Lance learned to swim and tried to teach Keith, but Keith didn’t need teaching, where Lance had struggled with the basics Keith knew naturally. Soon it became a competition,  always a challenge that Lance never wanted to lose, but sometimes hated to win. Still, the pool became their getaway. They lived there more than at home and his mother asked if they had grown gills yet. It was always a, “Not yet! Maybe tomorrow!” 

And on the days where they couldn’t go, they would always make up some game. Lance loved space adventures. In them he was an all star pilot and sharpshooter out to rid the galaxy of an evil ruler. Keith was his renegade alien friend who flew (almost) as good as him. Together they couldn’t be defeated, even when his brothers came in and kidnapped Princess Marisa. 

Then there were days Keith couldn’t play all. Lance always found something to do. Usually he’d get roped into a video game with his siblings. But those days were never half as fun as when Keith was around. 

The days when Keith could play the longest were when Keith’s father wasn’t home. Lance would never tell Keith, but his father scared him. He was cold—in a way that made Lance feel insignificant every time he looked at him—but he didn’t feel like Keith’s dad hated him; it just felt like he didn’t exist to him. When his dad was home, Keith didn’t come around as much.

They would still play, but it was always more muted. Keith’s gaze would always slide over to the front door, quick and you miss it fast, but not fast enough for Lance to miss the anxious fear before it disappeared behind a glare and jab at his side to “Pay attention, you’re letting all the bugs go!”

Lance didn’t know how to ask about Keith’s dad. So he didn’t, and they kept playing, as much as they could.  

* 

Early that summer though, Keith went to Korea with his mother to visit family. They promised to write each other. His mom encouraged it, so he could practice his penmanship, and with a promise to let him lick the envelope. 

 Without Keith, Lance played a lot with his siblings. He had some fun. There was a lot of sprinkler usage, bike riding, and learning to dive in the deep end of the pool. They even camped outside most nights with his dad lighting the grill so they could roast marshmallows. Lance liked those summer nights, with his mom in a fold up chair, Marisa usually on her lap and Luis tucked in close to her leg—while his dad told them scary stories and passed out chocolate. Dante and Tomas loved to sneak up on Marisa and their mother and his Dad loved to sneak up on them after going inside to get more chocolate. 

Lance wrote to Keith about the stories his dad would tell, about the belly flop he meant to make when diving, and a new biking trail they had to try together when he got back. Keith wrote him back, usually less and slower, but he wrote him about the small city where his grandparents lived, how he was learning Korean, and how to make kimchi.  Lance kept every letter tucked away inside his sock drawer. 

 Keith came back a week before school. Lance was dying to run over when Keith’s mom pulled up into the driveway. His mother kept him back and told him to wait for Keith to come over first. So, Lance waited, but a few days went by and he couldn’t wait any longer. He marched over there and knocked. He had so much to tell it was just bursting to come out and he vibrated with excitement. 

When Keith’s dad opened the door everything he wanted to say fizzled out. 

Keith’s father stared down at him with brown almost black eyes. His dad was clean shaven, hair cut close to his head, with a pinch to his eyes that always made him look mad. It was the eyes that scared Lance the most, they weren’t like his mother’s which were always soft when she looked at him. Keith’s father had cold eyes. His voice also held that tone of authority that made Lance want to stand up straighter. 

 “Can I help you?”

 Lance fought to get the words out and averted his gaze. “Um—Um, can Keith come outside and play?”

 Keith’s dad didn’t say anything just stepped back and disappeared out of sight. Lance heard a gruff call of “Keith!” and then Keith appeared in front of him. Before the door shut, his dad called out, voice soft but stern, “Don’t be out too long. You know your mother is cooking dinner.” 

 “Yes, sir.” Keith nodded at his father and waited for the door to finally close before looking over at Lance. 

 That’s when Lance noticed Keith was taller than him. He would have said something about it, but Keith grabbed his hand and tugged him off the porch and over to Lance’s yard. 

 “I got you something.” The next second Keith dropped a small keychain into his hand. It was a little drum. 

 “What is it?” Lance held it up and noticed a small Korean flag painted on it. He knew because Korea was his country to learn about in first grade and he had pestered Keith to help him make his poster board. 

 “It’s called a _janggu_. My grandpa was teaching me to play it while I was there. I can’t play very well though...you’re supposed to dance with it.” Keith glanced away while explaining. A blush formed on his cheeks and Lance leaned in to give Keith a hug.

 “Thank you, it’s really cool!” He beamed, a sudden fizzy happiness making him grab Keith’s hand. “Come on, I want to show you something.” 

 He tugged and Keith followed after him, looking back at his house before Lance pulled him into the space between their houses and led the way to his backyard. Lance had been dying to tell Keith all summer about the thing his father helped him build. But his dad thought it might be better to surprise him, so Lance bottled it up even though it killed him to keep a secret. 

In the far back of the yard, two large trees stood—two oaks with their leaves already starting to change colors—and suspended between them, a treehouse. 

Keith looked up and his mouth popped open with a gasp. “No way! You built this?”

Lance was equal parts proud and giddy from Keith’s reaction and showed off a toothy grin of satisfaction. 

“My dad helped. Come on, I’ll show you the inside!” He raced off toward the rope ladder and scrambled inside. When Lance reached the top, he turned to watch Keith pull himself to his feet. The treehouse had various toys and only old blankets inside of it, but from Keith’s look it seemed like a castle. 

 “This is amazing! I can’t believe you built it!” And Keith grinned bright enough that Lance blushed. 

 “Yeah, it was nothing. Dad said we could have a sleepover out here one night though!” 

 Keith looked at him surprise written on his face. “Really—by ourselves?”

Lance snickered and teased, “Of course. I’m big now, dad trusts me.” He kept out the part that all his siblings had to be out there with them when it happened, but Lance didn’t think that was a big deal. 

 “Oh!” Suddenly Lance remembered why he wanted Keith to come up with him. He turned and dug under one of the blankets for a set of old butter knives. “Everyone else carved their names, we have to too!” He held out a knife which Keith took skeptically. Lance pointed at an uneven set of names dotting just under one of the windows. Dante and Tomas had put theirs up higher, while Luis and Marisa’s scrawled stick thin and perfect near the bottom (thanks to his dad). 

 Keith spoke soft and unsure, “Are you sure I should put my name? I didn’t help make it...” 

Lance had already started on his name and glanced back toward Keith. 

He didn’t even hesitate and waved the other over. “Yeah, but it’s my treehouse since I helped build it and I’m saying it’s yours too. So you have to put your name down. Treehouse rules!”

 Keith bit his lip and fidgeted with the knife in his hand, but finally came over, a tentative smile on his face. 

 They sat crouched near the base of the open window and Lance scratched his name in blocky, big letters. When done, he sat back proud of his work (he’d been practicing his penmanship after-all) and watched Keith—tongue between his teeth as he carved out his name just below. 

 Once finished, they stepped back to admire their handiwork. They had matching grins when they finally looked at each other, and Lance thought they could still have a lot of even if summer was ending. 

8

It was the first day of summer and Lance had already roped Keith into a game of hide and seek with his siblings. His heart hammered in his throat from the spot he chose stuffed between the two hydrangea bushes. Petals littered his hair and clothes as many of the blossoms shattered when he pushed into them. 

 He was regretting his hiding decision when his gaze caught on the bright flash of sun as it skidded off a passing car. The car slid to a stop in front of Keith’s house. It was dark—windows tinted enough to show only the outline of bodies. Three men stepped out. Each wore the pristine black of military dress. Colorful patches and bright white gloves contrasted against the blackness. It looked like it was hot and Lance wondered how they could stand it. 

 Their shoes tapped against the pavement and when they stood by the door it was in a half semi circle. It reminded Lance of all the sad cop shows his dad liked to watch—they all wore matching expressions, faces blank and hands clasped in front of them—it made him uneasy. 

One of them knocked—one, twice—firm and deliberate. 

Keith’s mother opened after a long, silent second. Lance couldn’t see anything but her feet through the press of the men’s bodies. They were slippered and shifted back once the door fully opened. Lance knelt on his knees, grass digging into his skin hard enough to leave green stains. While he couldn’t hear what was said, he felt it in the shift of the soldier’s bodies and the bunched up movement Mrs. Kogane’s skirt made just above her slippers. Distance could sometimes be a relative thing, because Lance couldn’t hear from where he sat, but he still knew. 

Keith came out from his spot in the bushes beside his. A flurry of petals fell to the ground when he stood and Lance caught the slight tremble of his legs. The tremble right before you know your life will change forever. 

Lance crawled out from the bushes then. 

“Keith?” His voice caught in a question that went ignored. Keith walked away, his narrow shoulders bunching up the closer he got to the door. It meant he was trying not to cry and Lance wanted to say it was okay to. 

The funeral was solemn. He thought most would be, but it was his first so he had nothing to compare it to. He wanted it to be his last. When the guns went off, Lance closed his eyes. He tried not to cry because Keith wasn’t. Keith’s shoulders didn’t bunch up even once. The casket lowered into the ground, but Lance only looked at Keith. 

For a brief second Keith looked up and met his eyes. A slight breeze fluttered through and caught on a strand of Keith’s hair, he didn’t move to brush it out of his eyes, he didn’t even blink. Lance shivered. Keith stared solemn, sightless, at nothing. Keith didn’t cry, so Lance cried for the both of them. Big drops that slid down his face and left cold trails behind, the kind that left his nose running, and his face a puffy mess. His mother noticed and tucked him in under her arm. He wanted to bury his face into her coat, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Keith. 

It was only after, when black clothed bodies milled around in the too small space of Keith’s living room that he had time to breath. Lance didn’t like wearing his good clothes. The collar was too tight and he felt as if he were on display all the time. As soon as his mom turned her back, he rushed off toward Keith’s room. There he could take off the shoes that pinched his toes, already too small, and unbutton his shirt enough to breath. He didn’t knock and pushed open the door with a heavy sigh. A complaint was halfway to his lips, but died so all that he got out was a small squeak. 

 Keith sat bunched on the floor between the end of his bed and dresser trying to take up as small a space as possible. His face pressed against the top of his knees and his shoulders shaked. Lance didn’t hear if Keith was crying but he shut the door and walked quietly toward him. He slid to his knees, voice soft—sad—because his best friend was crying and he was going to cry too. 

 “Keith—?” His voice was high and tremulous and caught at the end, because his tears suddenly slid fat and heavy down his face. 

Keith only squeezed his legs tighter, knuckles going white, and Lance watched him shake with silent sobs. Lance didn’t know what to do since his mom was always the one to take care of him and his siblings whenever they cried. He tried to do what she did, what made him feel better, and crawled closer to wrap his arms around Keith. A soft whimper spilled from Keith’s mouth and he was suddenly clutching at Lance. They hugged each other, fiercely and desperate, and cried together. Lance cried louder but Keith didn’t tell him to stop—that he had no reason to. 

They held on until Lance had devolved into just sniffling and Keith stopped shaking. When they pulled back Lance wiped the back of his hand across his nose. 

 Keith watched and shoved at his shoulder, his voice hoarse when he spoke, “You’re gross!”

 Lance’s face lit up in embarrassment. “I’m not! You are! You’ve got a booger hanging out of your nose!”

 He did, but Lance wasn’t going to say anything until Keith had called him gross. A blush blazed across Keith’s face and he turned around hurriedly. It was only after Keith used an old school assignment crumpled under his dresser to wipe his nose, that Lance laughed. 

 Keith turned to glare and Lance only laughed harder. It seemed to bubble out of him—not because it was funny—and Keith started to laugh with him. They laughed and laughed until a soft knock sounded on the door. Both stopped abruptly and Keith cast red-rimmed eyes toward Lance. 

 Lance called out, “Yeah?” 

 His mom opened the door. “ _Mijo_ , we’re getting ready to leave.” 

 “Oh—okay.” Lance got up on shaky legs and held his hand out for Keith. Keith looked at his hand and then him, wrinkled his nose, but grabbed it anyway and stood. 

 “I’ll...see you later, yeah?” Lance asked voice gone soft. Keith nodded, gaze already on the floor. His mom moved into the room and touched the back of Lance’s neck with tender hands, a light brush of comfort before she reached out for Keith. 

 Keith stiffened but didn’t pull away as his mother brought him into a one armed hug. She left it open enough for Keith to slip out if he wanted, and with the same light touch to the back of the neck, she pulled away. 

 Lance noticed how shiny Keith’s eyes were, so close to tears again, but he fought them back and nodded—a fierce set to his jaw. 

 Lance’s mom walked toward the door and said in her “mom” voice. The one that was soft and just on the edge of a smile. “Keith, I made your favorite—empanada—I left them on a plate for you. And remember, we love to have you over whenever you want.” 

Keith smiled, a fragile thing, and nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Fuentes.” 

 “You know better, it’s Estefania.” She said it with a smile that made Keith return it. 

 “Estefania...thank you.” He said it tentatively a blush on his cheeks and a smile on his lips. And Lance knew right then that no matter what, he wanted Keith to smile always. 

 His mom walked away and Lance stood an extra second before dashing in to give Keith a one armed hug of his own. 

 Lance scurried away and right as he hit the doorway, Keith called after him. He turned in time to see a glisten of tears in Keith’s eyes and a smile still on his face. 

 “Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

* 

3 weeks after Keith’s dad died, he and his mom packed up a moving van and drove away.

 Lance’s feet slapped hard and a little desperate against the pavement as he ran toward Keith. The other boy was pulling himself into the U-Haul truck but stopped, door hanging wide open, and turned at the sound of his name. 

 “Keith!” 

 Lance came to a sudden stop his heart pounding, but not from running. 

Keith would not meet his eyes and spoke in a stunted monotone.  “What do you want?” 

 Words caught in his throat, sticky, and made his mouth feel like it was coated in syrup. 

 “You’ve still got to come for the sleepover in the treehouse. It’s tradition now, you know.” He spoke fast afraid Keith might leave before he could say everything. 

A brief look of surprise passed across Keith’s face, before he went back to bored and sullen. “But I’m moving.”

“So—! My mom said she would come and pick you up. And you could always bike over with me. Marisa would cry forever if you stopped playing with her. You’re the only one she listens to.” He said with exasperation in his voice. Lance looked up at Keith, apprehension and slight fear made his stomach roll in discomfort. His voice dropped low and he had to swallow to get the words out, “Plus—I would miss you...if you didn’t come over.” 

 His cheeks flushed and before he looked down he saw the slight pink tinge to Keith ears. Keith looked away too and they stood in silence until Keith’s mother called for him to hurry. Lance felt the prick of tears, because Keith was going to leave and he would never see him again—he just knew it—but Keith mumbled out a little too fast. 

 “Iwouldmissyoutoo.” 

 With that, Keith slammed the truck door shut and Lance backed up onto the sidewalk. As the truck pulled away, Lance watched and promised himself he wouldn’t cry, so he waved instead. A window rolled down and Keith stuck his arm out to wave frantically back. Lance didn’t stop waving until the truck turned a corner a disappeared from view.

 

* 

Keith moved and transferred schools too, but it was okay. Really, the distance wasn’t that bad. A bike ride, always accompanied by his siblings and with strict instructions to “stay on the sidewalks!” and playing with Keith was much like it always was. Except, he could only bike over when it was nice out, and never when he had school the next day. 

They were still best friends and maybe they were farther apart now, but it didn’t change the adventures they had or that they were still Lance&Keith. 

 

9 

“Hunk come on, don’t be afraid!” Lance slid off the end of a log and turned to beckon the other boy to follow. Pidge had run off, already in search of the treasure. 

 Keith stood beside him and cheered Hunk on too. “Yeah, it’s really easy, you don’t have to worry!”

“Says you guys!” Hunk crawled slowly along the log, afraid to stand up. Keith hopped back onto the log and sidestepped until he reached Hunk. With a reassuring smile, he held his hand out. Hunk looked up at the hand and then back down. 

Lance couldn’t quite hear Keith as he kept his hand extended and spoke low to Hunk. But whatever Keith said made Hunk stretch his hand out, tentative at first, before he grasped the other’s hand. Once Hunk stood up, shaky, Keith edged back toward the other end of the log with Hunk. They reached the end and Keith jumped off. Hunk hesitated before jumping off too and Lance raised his hand for a high-five. Hunk laughed but smacked his hand and then they were off.

At school, Pidge had overheard a bunch of fifth graders whispering about a treasure they had buried near the ravine. While they didn’t know what the treasure was exactly, the ravine was near Lance’s house, and Keith—upon hearing about possible treasure—insisted they go and find it. Something about it being a rite of passage, since they were all going to be fifth graders. 

 “Pidge!” Hunk yelled out, hands cupped around his mouth. Pidge popped out from behind a tree, a smudge of dirt across their nose and glasses a little askew. 

 “I think I found something! I knew my dad’s metal detector would come in handy!”

Lance took off at a run, excitement at the thought of actual treasure. He heard Hunk behind him and sped up once he saw Keith running next to him. Without a word, it became a race and Lance pounded through the trees. As he neared Pidge, his foot snagged on a branch and he fell into a sudden body roll that brought him back up to his feet. 

“Woah, Lance, are you alright?” Keith asked him, breathing heavily.

“Yeah, of course! I meant to do that. It was my victory roll. Because I won, right Pidge!” His words were a little slurred partially from his embarrassment, but also from running. 

“No you didn’t! I did, because you just fell!” 

Lance sucked in a deep breath ready to argue that, no, he totally won, but Hunk caught up to them then, his breath panted out and a hand on his knee as he bent over and said, “So—So, what did you find?” 

Pidge seemed to finally hear them and turned from messing with the metal detector. “Oh! Well, I’m not sure yet. But there’s definitely a lot of displaced dirt here. Do you guys have the shovels?” 

Lance dug into his back pocket then and produced a small gardening shovel. His dad would have definitely noticed him slipping away with the large shovel, so he’d snuck away with the smallest one that would fit. Hunk pulled out a similarly small shovel. 

“Okay, start digging here.” Pidge pointed to a rough circular patch of dirt. 

 Lance got to his knees and began digging with the shovel. Hunk followed suit and Keith just knelt down and used his hands. They all dug, except Pidge who wanted to supervise, and got about 10 inches down before Hunk struck something.

 “Oh guys, I got something!” They dropped the shovels and used their hands frantically. Dirt spilled out beside them, Lance’s clothes a stained mess he’d have to explain later. When they finally reached what looked like a metal box, they stopped. Keith pulled back first and Lance followed. 

 “Go ahead, Hunk.” Keith said it and offered a reassuring smile. Hunk paused and looked at them, unsure. 

“Yeah, let’s see what it is Hunk.” Lance gave a thumbs up and smiled too. Finally, Hunk reached out and grasped the edge of the box and yanked it up in a shower of dirt. They all crowded around to get a look and Pidge reached out to yank at the lock that dangled from the box’s opening. 

“How are we going to get this off now? I didn’t bring my pocket knife. The one time Matthew had to use it, ugh!” A sullen look crossed their face. 

 “Wait! I watched a Youtube video about these. Let me try something—”  

 Hunk set the box down and grasped the end of the lock and held it out while applying pressure to one side. He then used his shovel and began to tap across the padlock. His face screwed up in concentration and he began to tap harder until Lance heard a sudden click.

 “Alright!” Hunk cheered. Lance whooped and pounded Hunk across the back.

“That was so awesome!”

“You used pressure across the main body to pop the lock from it’s socket didn’t you?” Pidge had that look in their eye that meant they were excited about something.

“Yeah, exactly! In fact—” Lance tuned them out and looked at Keith. 

Keith only shrugged and grinned. “Hey, what’s inside?” His question brought the other two back to the task at hand and they all knelt around their treasure. 

 “Hunk, you should open it.”

 “No, you found it, you should open it Pidge.” 

 Pidge was about to protest but Lance held up a hand and then grabbed the lid of the box. “Why don’t we all just open it?” 

 Pidge just shrugged and grabbed another edge. Hunk and Keith followed and with a nod they lifted the lid. They all leaned forward. 

 “Is that a snickers bar?” Lance asked incredulously and Pidge reached forward to grab a folded up piece of paper. Beside the snickers bar were several pennies and a crumpled dollar bill, an old game cartridge of super smash brothers melee, and what looked like an old ipod with a battered charging cord beside it. 

 “I think this is a time capsule guys.” Lance looked up as Keith spoke and noticed the other’s consternated expression. 

“Why would they bury a time capsule out here?” Hunk had picked up the ipod and tried to turn it on but it appeared dead already. 

“Maybe they don’t want it to be dug up for awhile?” Pidge just shrugged. 

 Lance looked down at the box and thought it would be awesome to have a piece of his history discovered 50, no, 100 years from now. A kid just like him finding out how cool he was. He murmured out, “It’s kinda cool.” 

 “Let’s put some of our own stuff in.” When Lance glanced up, he caught Keith’s gaze. Keith smiled, a sudden understanding there, and spoke with mounting excitement. “It’d be cool to have future people find our stuff. Maybe even aliens!”

It was decided then. After a bit of planning, they returned the next day with their own keepsakes to put in the box. Pidge brought a miniature rocket from NASA (“I have a bunch of these, my dad likes to bring me one every time he comes back home”). Hunk brought a small clay pineapple he made in art, (“I think they’d like art in the future too! Plus, everyone likes pineapples”). Keith brought a letter of his own and set it in the box, (“Just so they know about who we are”). Lance wanted to read it, but Keith said he’d have to wait at least a hundred years. Lance scoffed and glared before he dropped in a picture of the four of them. It was from the fourth of July, they all had sparklers and Lance and Keith were turned in a sparkler sword fight while Pidge and Hunk laughed. 

 Once they had placed the items in the box, Hunk locked it up again and set it in the dirt. With their garden shovels they packed the dirt back on top and stood up. With matching grins and muddy hands they high-fived and made the trek back. It turned into a race and between peals of laughter and dodging trees, Lance thought he’d want to live to a hundred just to run like this with his friends. Hunk won and beat them all across the log. 

 They celebrated with popsicles, a water gun fight, and future plans for the summer. One that involved them all stuffed inside the treehouse, sleeping bags pressed side by side, and whispered stories about space and what aliens were like. 

 

10 

It was towards the end of the summer.  After the last fireworks finally died down, and Lance’s mother was trying to find clothes that would fit through his sudden growth spurt, when they got a phone call. He only heard part of the conversation, a soft “oh, no” from his mother and an even softer, “is he alright?” and Lance just knew something was wrong. His whole family was home, safe behind the walls of their house, so it had to be about Keith. It had to be, because his mother looked at him with the phone still pressed to her ear and the first beginning of tears. 

Lance raced out the door—the call of his name trailed behind him. He knew he’d get in trouble for leaving so late in the evening, but he was already on his bike and racing down sidewalks. 

 His fingers dug into his handlebars, white knuckled and to the point of bruising, because there was Keith pressed up against the side of the house. Keith’s body doubled over on itself, he watched the trembling shake of his legs and the familiar way his shoulders bunched up. Lance pushed his bike to the dirt and ran over to him. 

 “Keith!” He called out and Keith looked up at him. Lance almost stopped, caught by Keith’s wide and bewildered eyes. They were watery and red from unshed tears and Lance was struck by how desolate and haunted they were. “Keith.” His voice caught in a whisper and he tried to close the distance between them. But Keith backed up, hitting the house, and shook his head over and over. 

“Keith, it’s okay—” Lance raised his arms and tried to be as non-threatening as possible. Keith looked at him with suddenly wide eyes. There was a moment of panic from the other boy and then he fell forward against Lance and sobbed. Dry heaves, the kind that steal your breath and make the tears harder to come, wracked through Keith’s body and all Lance could do was hold on. 

“My m—mom—” Keith’s words choked off and a sudden weight filled Lance’s stomach. 

 “Your mom…?” He didn’t want to ask, but he did because he didn’t know what to do and Keith was so small as he clutched at him. 

Keith kept his fists balled up into Lance’s shirt and mumbled harsh around the tears, “Car wreck. She died.” It was all Keith said and it was enough. Hot tears slid down Lance’s cheeks, but he cried silently. Because it wasn’t his mom, it was Keith’s, but that still didn’t stop the awful sadness. 

The only sounds were Keith’s sobs and the distant roar of a lawnmower. It seemed too hot and bright for this, like it shouldn’t be summer, but it was and Lance felt cold all over. 

 

* 

Keith moved again, to a new family, and the next city over. They promised to visit each other as much as possible. His parents tried to get him to see Keith at least once a month, and it was fine, really. Keith was a little more subdued and laughed less. Lance tried though, he would act his silliest and save his best jokes just for Keith, and even the smallest smile was worth it. Best friends were always best friends and Keith was Lance’s best friend. Lance promised distance wouldn’t change that. 

 

11

Lance saw less and less of Keith, until Keith stopped coming over altogether, and Keith’s new foster parents said they were too busy for him to visit. But Lance didn’t give up. When summer hit, Lance had enough and finally rode to the new foster home Keith stayed at, only to find out he didn’t live there anymore. His foster parents didn’t know where he was and Lance didn’t know how to go about finding him. 

His father tried to help him by contacting social services, but something about it being confidential information meant they couldn’t release anything to them. Lance didn’t understand how telling him if his best friend was okay, or even safe, was confidential. 

 He spent a lot of his summer biking to and from the pool. He practiced his swimming and when he wasn’t in the pool he dragged Pidge and Hunk over to hang out. Or he would spend hours with his siblings, dress up with Marisa and Luis, video games with Tomas and Dante, and even baking with his mom. Family barbeques with Hunk’s mom’s malasada, Pidge’s dad telling stories about space, and his parents manning the grill filled the rest of his summer. While it was all fun, a great distraction, he’d still get sad thinking about Keith. 

 

12

Lance decided he was too big to sleep in the treehouse anymore. 

 

13

It wasn’t until his mother hauled them all to the new community pool that he saw a familiar mop of black hair. He was frozen for a second, his towel bunched under his arm and sunglasses perched atop his head, until Marisa bumped into him. The large sun hat she insisted on wearing, because it made her _sophisticated_ flopped to the ground. Lance ignored her protest and instead tried to sneakily walk toward Keith. He didn’t want him to see, so he snuck behind a group of girls and inched forward. 

 It was all in vain, because the gaggle of girls stopped and Lance smashed into them. A chorus of screams was met with him tripping over a pair of flip flops only to slide and flop into the pool with a loud shriek. When he pulled himself up for air, gasping, he was met with an outstretched hand. He stared dumbstruck at first, but then met Keith’s gaze and grasped the offered hand. 

 Lance wanted to be angry. He wanted to ask a million questions but, he wasn’t, and all of them died once Keith looked at him.

“Hey. It’s been awhile.” Keith said it all casually, but underneath that was shyness and an insecurity that Lance wanted to chase away. 

Lance smiled and Keith seemed to relax. 

 “Yeah.” He was breathless, from the fall, and this. But most of all he was happy.

 

*

“Come on, don’t be a scaredy cat!” Lance clawed and dragged himself over the chain-link fence until he hopped over safely. He landed with a light grunt and turned to glance at Keith still on the other side. 

“Are you sure no one’s going to catch us?” Keith’s hair hung low over his face and across one of his eyes. Lance didn’t know how he could see well, but Keith seemed to like looking out at people behind a mop of hair. 

 “Trust me. Dante and Tomas sneak in here all the time.” 

As a friendship renewal of sorts, because Lance had told Keith that he was never to drop off the face of the earth again, Keith had to spend half the summer at his house (which he didn’t seem to mind and the group home he was in didn’t care). And that renewal also involved sneaking off to the nearby pool, something Lance had done once, but his brother’s had said they did _all_ the time.   

Keith finally pulled himself up and over the fence and dropped down with a grunt. The only light came from a couple of red lights near the pool and it tinged everything in a burnt glow. Lance stripped down to his swim trunks, hidden beneath his pajamas. Keith followed suit and with a knowing grin they both jumped into the water at the same time. 

The water was cold, but Lance didn’t care. As he sank, he opened his eyes underneath the water and looked for Keith. The other seemed to sink lower and lower and Lance almost reached for him before Keith kicked hard. The water buffeted against him and Lance kicked upward as well. With a gasp and his lungs screaming, he burst from the water and laughed. Beside him, Keith flung himself from the water with a splash. 

The splash caught Lance full in the face and caused him to choke down some water. “Hey, watch it!” 

 “Oh, sorry.” Keith stilled enough to tread water and the grin that lit across his face was anything but sorry. 

The fight was on. It turned into who could splash the biggest, who could hold their breath the longest, and finally who could swim the fastest. All of which Lance rightfully believed he was best at, and which he was arguing adamantly with Keith about, when a sudden noise caused them both to go quiet. 

A light flashed outside. 

“Shit!” Lance shoved at Keith’s shoulder and swam toward the edge of the pool.

Keith bobbed in the water in confusion, but saw the light too. 

 “I thought you said no one watched this place!” Keith hissed out but followed Lance and in record time they both had grabbed their clothes and shoved them on. The light seemed to grow closer, and from where they hopped the fence, and Lance thought he was going to die. If he was caught and his parents found out—yeah, definitely dead. 

 “Come on, this way.” Keith suddenly grabbed his wrist and raced with him around the pool. Lance saw where he was headed once they hit the stairs and fled into the lockers. It was too dark inside to see well, but the layout was off so he knew they were on the girls side. 

Before Lance could say anything about it, Keith shoved Lance back and inside one of the lockers. He was too tall, taller than Keith now, and his head scraped the top. 

 “Ouch!” He winced and Keith brought his hand up quick to cover Lance’s mouth. His protest died when heard movement outside and a minute later saw the slight flicker of a flashlight through the slits of the locker. Keith pressed against him, the locker really not big enough for both of them, but Lance wasn’t worried about that. His heart hammered and he held his breath. It felt like an eternity before Keith finally relaxed enough to move his hand away from his mouth. They shared a look, or tried to, but Lance couldn’t make out Keith’s face enough to tell if the other boy was staring at him. 

 “I think they’re gone…” Lance whispered, the adrenaline of being caught still too fresh to speak normally. He shifted in an attempt to signal Keith to move, but he didn’t, rather the hand at Lance’s waist gripped harsher and for a moment it seemed like Keith was leaning into him—more than before. A wave of fear hit him and his heart hammered for a different reason. His breath came out in a ragged gasp, like he was underwater again, but Keith just pushed backward and the locker burst open. Lance blinked, and whatever weird energy between them disappeared. He pushed himself out of the locker with a groan.

 “Next time, I choose the hiding place.” He rubbed a hand through his damp hair. 

 Keith scoffed and threw his hands up in exasperation. “Next time! Next time I’ll drown you! Won’t get caught my ass.” 

 “I didn’t know they got security for this place! And! We weren’t.” Lance picked his way through the benches, going all stealthy and trying to do like James Bond—all suave and cool, until he stumbled his way back outside. 

 Keith was pouting. Lance saw it in his furrowed brows and pursed lips. 

“It was fun at least, right? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you swim so fast.” He teased and wagged his eyebrows at Keith. He watched Keith fight back a smile, before he scoffed and grabbed for the fence.

 “Whatever. Next time I’ll just let you get caught.” 

 Lance laughed and followed after his friend before they parted ways, Lance heading right and Keith left. He was happy there would be a next time.

  

14

The overpass hung silent and dead above them. Lance swiped his hands down his jeans, trying to wipe the sweat from them. Nothing was happening, yet, but he could feel his heart hammering away. Keith stood beside him, hands shoved deep in his pockets, and an anticipatory expression on his face. When Keith had mentioned sneaking out to meet up with some of his friends from his group home, he hadn’t expected it to be in such a sketchy neighborhood. Lance would never admit that he was scared standing there, but he also didn’t stop from looking over his shoulder a couple times.

“So...what exactly are we meeting them over here for?” He smoothed his hands down his arms then. It was a chilly night. A cold snap had just hit them as summer drew to a close, and Lance had forgotten a jacket for their little hangout. 

Keith crossed his arms and then uncrossed them before taking off his jacket. It was a beaten old leather thing, at least three sizes too big for how scrawny he was, but he shrugged it off and shoved it toward Lance. He was caught off guard and scrabbled to take the jacket before it fell. 

A question and a thank you died in his throat as he shrugged it on and Keith just said, “They’re here.”

A trio came around the corner, all older boys. Two Lance had seen on a couple of his trips to meet up with Keith, but the third was new. He looked the oldest and stood out the most. A shock of white-blond bangs spilled out from a black undercut. As they came closer, Lance also noticed a scar across the other’s nose. He wanted to ask where someone gets a scar like that, but that was rude so he settled on simply standing there and slipped his hands into the jacket pockets.

 “Hey, Keith!” The oldest guy pounded fists with Keith.

“Hey Shiro! Jason, Seth.” Keith smiled at the trio and fist bumped the other two guys. Seth had a shaved head and lip piercing while Jason seemed like a typical all-american jock, a blue eyed blonde with arms that Lance was envious of. 

 “So, you guys ready?” Shiro looked at the other’s expectantly and Lance had to wonder what they were ready for. He followed a few feet behind the group, because these were Keith’s friends and he felt out of place. He tried to shove the insecurity down because he would not ruin this time with Keith. But Keith slowed a little and then they walked at the same pace. Lance wasn’t sure what to say and Keith remained silent. 

Suddenly Lance just started to babble about his family, how Marisa was petitioning their parents for a dog, how his father was secretly taking him to parking lots to get some early driving lessons, and what his oldest brothers were fighting about now. He talked and talked and glanced over at Keith who had a smile on his face and would meet his eyes every now and then to show he was listening. It filled Lance with a lightness, to talk like this, while they had rekindled their friendship, Keith hadn’t come around over the summer as much. But with that smile, Lance had hope that it would change. 

He stopped mid-sentence as they stopped in an alleyway and Shiro banged on a rusted metal door. A big bald guy opened the door, looked them over, before he let them all inside. Lance followed behind Keith, hands shoved deep into the pockets of the borrowed leather jacket, and tried to see where they were. 

It was a dive bar with an already large crowd that seemed to spill out and fill the space to bursting. All the bodies meant they had to stay huddled in the far back of the club. but the other guys didn’t seem to mind. Shiro had wandered off to great a few people. An all girl band, dressed in pastels and leather, belted and rocked out along the stage. The crowd went wild and Lance found his attention being drawn to watch. The lead singer was effervescent as she sang and Lance loved it. The song came to a close through a chorus of cheers and Lance finally shifted against the wall and spoke a little loud so Keith could hear.  

 “One, why are we at a bar, not that I mind, but we’re clearly underage. And two, who are they!” 

 “Shiro works part time for the owner of this place so he gets to come in the back to watch the shows. They’re called the Altean’s and they play here most Saturday nights.” Keith grinned and leaned in closer as the band started up again. Lance felt Keith’s lips brush his ear and shivered. “The lead singer is Allura and she’s so badass. I thought you might like this band. I made you a CD of some of their songs, I’ll give it to you later.” 

 Lance stood and danced and even tried to sing along, Keith beside him and doing all the same—albeit better, since he knew the words—and Lance was enraptured with it all. The club grew painfully hot but no one seemed to mind. A chorus of groans filled the space as the lead singer, Allura, said how wonderful they all were but they had to call it a night. The stage lights blinked out as the band shuffled off stage and to the side. 

 “I’ll be right back.” Keith disappeared before Lance could think of a protest. Even though some of the crowd had shuffled out, Lance needed fresh air. 

Lance pushed his way out the back and into the blessedly frigid night air. His breath misted out in front of him while he hummed one of the Altean’s songs. The alleyway door burst open and Shiro stepped out. When he saw Lance, he waved and walked closer. 

“Hey, man. Did you like the show?” 

While Lance was weary, he couldn’t not talk about how obsessed he was with the band already. 

 “Are you kidding they were amazing! And Allura’s voice! I didn’t know angels were real until today.” 

 Shiro laughed and suddenly tossed a shirt at him. Lance caught it at the last minute and held it up. It was a band tee, with Allura’s signature on the shoulder. 

“No way man! How did you get this?” 

Shiro held up his own signed band shirt and looked at Lance with a fierce grin on his face. “She signed a few shirts and my boss let me snag some.”

 “This is so awesome. Thank you, really!” Lance stared at the band logo and Allura’s face forever immortalized on it and grinned. 

 “No problem. You’re a friend of Keith’s so that makes you cool enough to rock this.” Shiro smiled so sincerely at him that Lance was struck speechless at first. 

He recovered and heard his voice crack as he spoke—he hated puberty in that moment—and tried not to wince. “I promise to remain cool enough to wear this until the end of time.” 

Shiro laughed and it made the other boy seem younger. “I can see why you guys are best friends.”

 Lance wanted to ask why he thought that, but then Keith popped out the backdoor.  

 He had a bag in his hand and strode over to them. “I was looking for you guys. Seth and Jason met up with some guys they know and said not to wait up.” 

 Shiro nodded and then tossed another shirt at Keith with a grin.

 “No way, man!” Keith seemed to brighten with excitement and Lance was reminded of the summer he built the treehouse for them. It had been a long time since Keith had looked so excited, until now. 

 They fist bumped and Shiro seemed to smile brighter as Keith pulled the shirt on. Lance watched and fought back a frown. He was happy for Keith, and grateful to Shiro, so he shouldn’t have had a sinking feeling in his stomach. But he did, and he did his best to ignore it. 

 Keith turned to him then and held out a brand new CD. “This isn’t the mix I made, but I figured you could listen to this until I get it to you.”

 “Oh my god.” Lance snatched the CD away and held it up to look at. It was so beautiful and he couldn’t wait to listen to Allura’s angelic voice. He went in for a half hug and squeezed Keith in thankfulness. It caught Keith off guard but he hugged back. 

 Keith murmured soft and with laughter in his voice, “You’re a dork.” 

“Pfft, me? You’re the one who put on the band shirt over your shirt!” His protest was half hearted and said around a smile. 

 “That’s because someone is wearing my jacket and it’s cold!

 Lance’s retort rested on his tongue but Shiro suddenly held up a hand.

 “Alright guys, I think it’s time to call it a night, yeah? We’ve got curfew that we’re breaking...and I do not want to get stuck on dishes duty for a week.” 

 Keith gave a nod but looked over at Lance. “Yeah, alright. I’ll walk halfway home with you.” 

 Shiro’s eyebrows lifted in a question. “You’re going to get stuck with dish duty if you do.”

 “Cover for me?” A look passed between them and Shiro sighed, a gentle smile on his face. That smile said a world of things that Lance wasn’t privy to, things that Lance wanted to know and was jealous of Shiro for knowing. But this wasn’t the time, and Shiro was Keith’s friend, so Lance wouldn’t get jealous over that. Keith deserved more than just the friendship Lance could give and he wouldn’t begrudge Keith anything. 

 “Yeah, alright.” Shiro shook his head but smiled and waved them off.

 The night was cold as they walked in silence, both in their heads, but not to ignore the other.  At the halfway mark, he tried to give the jacket back, but Keith told him to keep it until later, he was wearing two shirts after all so he was fine—or so he said. 

 It wasn’t until he was back home and in bed that he found the CD mixtape hidden in one of the inner jacket pockets. He put it in his CD stereo and fell asleep to one of the slower Altean songs. His favorite from the night and the one Keith had marked with a little star as his favorite too. 

 

15

The buzz of the lawnmower was loud. It beat against his ears in time to the sweat that rolled slow down the middle of his back. Lance wiped the sweat from his temple with the back swipe of a hand. He waved wildly to catch Keith’s attention. A quick glance up, and a click on the mower, and they stood in summer silence. It was too hot for it to be quiet, Lance’s breath came out a little ragged, and he could just make out the blare of a car stereo a couple houses down.

 Even standing was laborious. Sweat dripped in a steady stream down Keith’s face. Lance was caught between being completely astounded that he could wear black while under the death ray that was the sun, and struck dumb, because Keith lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. Lance hadn’t ever thought sweat was particularly pleasant, in fact he hated the way it made him smell, but his eyes followed a drop where it trailed past the dark line of hair on Keith’s stomach and under the waistband of his shorts. There was a clearing of someone’s throat, not his, and it made him startle. Keith looked at him, and Lance looked back, and suddenly his face was on fire. 

 “Hey—Hey, loser.” Smooth. He was so smooth. He laughed, high and awkward, but it was fine. Everything was cool.

 “Pft. What do you want?” He dropped his hand and his shirt fell with it. Keith turned his back and started to check the gas on the lawn mower. Lance was definitely not having a furious internal monologue about just the slight strip of skin he could see when Keith bent over. And he was not thinking about wiping small pieces of grass out of Keith’s hair. He was not. Until, he reached over and plucked it out just as Keith stood back up. 

 Silence. Awkward silence that stretched while Keith looked at Lance with the funniest expression. Until, one of the boys in the group home slammed the front door open and stalked out down the street. Lance startled. 

“You had grass in your hair.” It was a perfectly logical explanation. It was the only explanation. 

Keith just narrowed his eyes at him. “Whatever. Did you want something?”

That’s when Lance remembered why he was there. “Oh, yeah. Pidge heard about this awesome rave later tonight. It’ll have kegs and sweet _lay-days_.” He waggled his eyebrows. 

Keith scoffed and started to roll the lawn mower back to the garage. “That the only reason you want to go?”

“Of course! You have dancing and girls. What more could you ask for? It was a rhetorical question because Lance really couldn’t ask for more.

“Is Hunk going too?”

 “Yeah, Pidge is going to drag him there. You can invite other people too. The more the merrier...especially if they’re girls.” Yes. Girls. Lots of girls. He only cared about girls. Lance was a ladies man, no sweaty best friends, just girls, girls, girls. 

 “Yeah, whatever. I’ll see if some of the guys want to go.” 

 “Okay. Cool. Well—I’ll see you later then.” Lance didn’t wait for a reply and turned back the way he’d come. He thought he heard a faint, “Yeah, okay. See you.” But it must’ve been the wind. The nonexistent wind. So he just slid onto his bike and rode back home, hoping he’d stop blushing by the time the party started and forget about sweat and lawnmowers and stupid best friends.

 

*

The warehouse was packed with bodies. Strobe lights of various flashing colors turned everything into a kaleidoscope. He felt Hunk at his back as he weaved his way through the crowd trying to reach one of the kegs. 

Lance noticed a familiar red jacket peaking out from behind another body and saw the flash of an upturned face, a grin, and that overgrown mullet. It was hard to see Keith and whoever it was clearly, so he pressed closer. Someone bumped against him and his drink spilled wet and a little sticky down his hand. He made a sound in annoyance and looked to make sure it didn’t get on his clothes. When he looked up next, he finally saw who was there with Keith. It stopped him in the middle of the dance floor with bodies writhing around him and the pounding base vibrating through his soles. 

Keith was pressed up against the wall and Shiro was leaning his body into him, their mouths connected in a harsh line. They kissed with abandon and Lance watched as Shiro dragged his hands into Keith’s hair. It was soft, Lance knew from many sleepovers and waking up to it pressed against his face almost suffocatingly. It wasn’t the kiss that made Lance step back. It wasn’t the tight pinprick of tears that made his vision swim either. Or Hunk’s sudden call of his name as Lance turned and bumped into him. Mostly, it was Keith’s hands grasping at Shiro’s shirt all white knuckled and desperate. 

 “I gotta go.” The words fumbled out of his mouth. He pushed past Hunk and all the other bodies and hit the door at a run. He ran and ran and ran. Wild, desperate, until it was just his lungs and body gasping for breath. 

 He finally stopped, because his sides screamed at him, and because he was lost. Hunk had driven them and Lance didn’t have his phone. He would be worried but it was better to focus on this, rather than what he’d seen. So he turned around in an attempt to retrace his steps. The night was cool, the way some summer nights can be when the heat wave breaks. The perfect temperature. It helped to cool him off, helped make the long walk back easier. He tried to think of the cute girl he had started to flirt with by the keg. Anna...Hannah, something. She had a nice smile, probably a cute laugh too, but he hadn’t heard it with the music blaring. Still, she laughed at his joke and smiled at him. Her pink hair had disappeared in the crowd after she motioned for him to follow. And he had, but then he had looked over, noticed the red jacket, saw Keith—Keith and Shiro—kissing. 

 Lance shook his head. It was fine. Keith could kiss people. He could kiss boys. Lance didn’t care who Keith kissed or didn’t kiss. Keith was his best friend and would be his best friend no matter what. But it burned to think of Keith with Shiro, burned so hot and acidic it made Lance close his eyes in frustration. Why did he care? He didn’t. But he did. Was he homophobic? Did this change how he saw Keith?

He didn’t think so. It couldn’t. Keith could kiss other people and Lance would be fine with it. His inner monologue halted as he neared the warehouse again. The party was still going strong even as people milled around outside. Some were making out while others just talked. In the scattered groups, he noticed Hunk and started toward him.

Halfway there and nowhere to hide, he noticed Pidge and Keith talking with him. At that moment, Pidge saw him and waved him over. Hunk turned, visibly relieved, and Keith glanced at him. 

“Hey guys.” The words came out casual and Lance was proud of himself. 

 “Where’d did you run off to? I was about to start a hunt for you.” 

 Lance dipped his head a little in embarrassment. He hadn’t meant to make Hunk worry. “Sorry, I just felt like getting some air. 

 “So you ran?” Keith said it with an accusatory tone, eyebrows furrowed and his customary glare on his face.

 “Yeah, what do you care?” And Lance did not mean to cross his arms or glare daggers back at Keith. But he was suddenly pissed. How could Keith keep something like that from him? He should have at least told him he was seeing someone! Keith would have been the first person Lance told. 

 “Come on guys. Lets just go back inside. They’re going to be shooting off glow in the dark glitter soon.” Pidge stepped further into the circled and tried to maneuver them to head inside. But Lance didn’t want to go. He was all socialized out for one evening. 

 “No, I’m just going to go.” Even as he said it he heard the pout in his own voice. 

 Pidge looked at him then at Hunk, “But you didn’t drive here and Hunk doesn’t want to go yet.”

 “I don’t?” Pidge gave Hunk a look that they all obviously saw, but Hunk just grinned all sheepish. “Oh, right, right. Yeah, I came for all that glitter. Love me some glitter!” 

Lance crossed his arms, about to sulk outside until they were done, because he did not want to have to spend another second with Keith. 

Keith pushed his hands into his pockets and said softly, “I’ll take you home.”

Lance looked up at that. 

“Okay, great! So, we’ll see you guys later. Bye!” Pidge pushed on Hunk’s shoulders and they both disappeared into the warehouse. 

He looked at Keith and then away, suddenly hit with Keith pushed up against the wall again. He took a deep breath and kept his mouth shut. It seemed he didn’t have a choice so he followed Keith towards a beat up red moped. 

It was the one thing Keith bought with some of the money his parents left him, and the only vehicle he could legally own or drive at fifteen. Lance remembered him pulling up on the thing and Keith tossing the other helmet at him. They had driven for hours until they were both burned and Lance’s legs ached. But he loved nothing more than feeling that wind against his face and Keith’s laughter shaking against his chest while he laughed too. 

Keith tossed him the helmet, this time silent, and a distant look across his face. Lance pulled the helmet on and tried to sit on the back of the moped without clinging to Keith like he normally did. But Keith sped out along the gravel road and Lance had to clutch him around the waist. He turned his head so the wind didn’t whip at his eyes so much. Under Lance’s arms he felt the tightness of Keith’s stomach and wished he couldn’t feel every breath his friend took.

When they reached his house, Lance hopped off the moped and got the helmet off in record time. 

He turned to rush off to his house but was stopped by a whispered, “Lance—” 

Lance turned and didn’t expect the expression on Keith’s face. He glared at him. A mixture of hurt that he tried to mask behind anger. “Look. I’m not going to apologize for being gay. So if you hate me fine, we can stop being friends.” 

Lance glared because Keith totally did not get it. “I don’t hate you Keith! And I’m not mad about that, I’m mad because—” He snapped his mouth shut and swallowed heavily. A blush settled on his dark features and he hoped Keith couldn’t tell in this dim light. He was about to say something awful, that he was mad because Keith was kissing someone that wasn’t him, and knew that would ruin whatever friendship they had. Keith may like boys, but he didn’t like Lance. 

 “Mad about what then?” Keith’s gaze was so honest and open. There was an earnestness to his expression that made him look younger than he was. Lance felt the imploring in that gaze, the need for something. 

“I...was mad you didn’t tell me first. I thought I was your best friend.” His words caught at the end, they were true, maybe only half true, but they were enough. 

Keith’s face softened and then he grinned, the smile all young and boyish, and happy, and so definitely Lance’s favorite smile. 

“Okay, sorry. I promise to tell you first next time.”

Lance scoffed and crossed his arms, all fake indigent.“What next time? It’s too late now! Now you’ve got to promise you’ll tell me FIRST, if you find out you’re part alien or something. Otherwise, I just don’t think this friendship is gonna work.” 

“God—you’re such a dork. But, fine. You’ll be the first to know if I suddenly turn purple and grow a tail.” Keith hesitated, expression serious again, and continued, “And...Shiro and I...it’s nothing serious. This is the first time—the only time it will happen.”

Lance bit his lip. “Okay...But promise—to both, telling me first...and the Shiro thing.” 

It was childish but Lance held out his hand with his pinky extended. Keith stared at it but hooked his pinky with Lance’s and smiled amused—it was the smile that meant he thought Lance was definitely over the top but he wasn’t making fun of him for it.

“Alright, I’ll see you later.” Keith pulled his hand back and gave a little wave to Lance before he sped off. Lance watched him disappear behind the corner and only then did he head inside. Despite everything, he couldn’t stop smiling.

 

 16

“Don’t be a jerk!” Lance shoved at Keith’s shoulder and laughed wildly. In his lap rested an old love note he had written for his mom. It consisted of a badly drawn heart, his mother and him in stick figure form, with I love you scribbled across. He didn’t think it looked bad considering he was four when he made it. 

 “Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to make fun of your _wittle wove_ note. I’m sure your mom _loooved_ it.” Keith snickered and snatched it away from him. “I’m sure she put it on the fridge and everything. Oh! Or framed it.” Keith laughed again and Lance kicked at Keith’s leg, half-heartedly.

 “Yeah, in fact she did! I bet I made better love notes than you ever did.” 

 Keith rolled his eyes and tossed the note back toward Lance. A closed off look crossed his face and Lance tried to figure out what it was. Keith would get like this sometimes, sullen and silent, brooding after an absent remark. Lance tried to figure out what to say to lighten the mood, but always it ended with Keith leaving. He’d text hours later as if nothing happened and Lance would let it go. 

 But he didn’t want to let it go. Keith started to stand and Lance grabbed at his wrist. 

 “Wait.” He swallowed, mouth dry. “Weren’t you going to stay for dinner?”

 Keith stared, face blank, and attempted to pull his arm away, but Lance held on. “I forgot. I have things to do.” Lance was losing him. He felt it when he let go and Keith stood to climb down. He hated this. Hated Keith shutting down on him, shutting him out. 

 “Wait!” Lance closed his eyes tight, fists clenched at his sides, and tried to think of something—anything—to say. He couldn’t think of anything so he just did. He marched forward and grabbed Keith’s shoulders. He leaned in without thinking, saw the surprised look on Keith’s face before his eyes squeezed shut, and kissed his best friend. It was his first kiss. His first kiss was with his best friend. And it was so good. Keith really had soft lips while he wished his weren’t so chapped. 

 A thrill chased through him, his lips pressed against Keith’s, and it was soon replaced by a cold weight of dread as Keith pulled back enough to stumble. Lance’s lips parted in a half apology and explanation but Keith seemed to scramble down before Lance could even form words. He stood frozen, hands clenched again, and his body ran hot and cold. 

*

 

Lance laid curled in a ball beneath his covers. His phone sat dimmed and opened to an unsent text in his hand. He couldn’t press send though. The words were just an excuse, an explanation, a lie of things he didn’t mean. Because he wanted to kiss Keith. He hadn’t meant to then, but still, he had wanted to kiss Keith. The text took back that want and Lance couldn’t send it. Not yet anyway; Lance just hoped he hadn’t lost his best friend. 

He turned and pressed his face against his pillow, trying to fall asleep and failing. Thunder boomed loud outside and rain fell in sheets to block out every other sound. But it wasn’t loud enough to block out a harsh tap against his window. Lance ignored it, it was probably a broken branch. It persisted though and fear at the thought of some mass murderer laced through him. 

Lance peeked out from beneath his cover and saw a figure outside his window. His fear spiked and he launched out of bed. He was at his door when the tap came again, more urgent, and he saw a familiar red jacket. It couldn’t be, but it was, and Lance tried to process it. He numbly unlocked and opened his window. 

Keith climbed through his window, soaked, and eyes a little wild. Lance stood back, shocked, but not enough to whisper harsh with surprise, “Keith, what are you doing here?” Lance was just glad his brother’s had moved to the basement, because he wouldn’t know how to explain this. 

The sound of rain was loud from the open window and Keith’s breathing even louder. 

“Keith—!” 

Before Lance could say anything else, Keith stepped closer and grabbed his face. There was a thought that Keith’s hands were wet and ice cold and his carpet was getting soaked but it washed away like so many other things. Because Keith kissed him. He was thinking that Keith’s lips were wet and ice cold and that it didn’t matter. His hands grasped at Keith’s wet shirt and he kissed back. Hard—hard enough that they both pulled back with an “ow.” He blushed then, a full-on number one embarrassing moment kind of blush. One which Keith chased away with a soft, harmless laugh, and another kiss. 

This time, he guided Lance and their lips met, barely touching at first, in a soft, warm, proper first kiss. It spread through him, made his fingers tingle, and his body lean in for more. But Keith was soaked, enough to soak Lance too. Lance pulled back, not wanting too, and whispered in that space where they shared air. 

“The climbing through the window thing, totally romantic, the soaking wet thing...not so much.” 

Keith punched his shoulder, not hard, and said with a smile and no bite, “Shut up.” 

Lance laughed and dropped his hands so he could fumble back to find a towel. “Here” 

What he really wanted to do was stay pressed against Keith, explore his mouth like all the daydreams he had in school. But he didn’t, and he stumbled back with an awkward laugh but a too happy smile. Before he could say there were spare clothes in his drawer, Keith was already tugging off his rain drenched shirt. The slap it made against the floor sounded too soft compared to the pounding of his heart. 

He should have looked away, but didn’t. Keith should have looked away, or at least turned around, but didn’t. And Lance swallowed, hard—too loud—while Keith undid the button of his jeans and peeled them from his legs. It was too much. It wasn’t enough. Lance watched a drop of water fall from Keith’s hair and carve a path down his chest. Lance shouldn’t like Keith. He was everything Lance hated. Better at everything Lance had to fight to be good at, smarter, more confident, comfortable in his skin...and not a girl. Keith was so far from a girl, bony and stick thin and flat in places that most girls weren’t. 

 His hands gripped the edge of his bed and he just stared. Keith tugged the last of his clothes off in a forceful rush, like if he stopped he’d lose his courage. Lance stared some more. Keith averted his gaze, a blush prominent on his cheeks and along his chest, and Lance grabbed Keith’s hand. It made Keith look at him and they were kissing again. This time on their sides, Keith naked and a little damp, and Lance unable to stop touching. He hesitated, afraid this was too fast, but Keith urged him on with a small, breathless gasp when Lance ran his hand across Keith’s chest and over one of his nipples. He wanted to hear that again, really wanted to hear how Keith sounded when he touched other things, so he did.

 Lance explored with his hands until Keith shivered less from cold. At some point, they stopped kissing and Lance found himself watching his hands as they traced over the staircase of Keith’s ribs, along the flat expanse of his abdomen, and finally lower. It was like Keith couldn’t stand the scrutiny, he groaned and pressed forward so his lips found Lance’s neck. Lance made soft groans of his own. He had to bite his lip to keep quiet. While Keith nibbled at his neck, Lance curled his fingers around the hardness of Keith, he marveled at how different the other felt in his hand, and stroked upward. It brought a moan, that Keith tried to bury against Lance’s neck, and he marveled at how Keith’s toes curled when he stroked again. 

They brought each other, Lance with his hands around Keith, and Keith with his mouth on Lance’s neck. It brought stars to Lance’s eyes and left his body tingly and numb all at once. It wasn’t until Keith shifted beside him that he realized his boxers were wet in the front. He sat up then and Keith seemed to hesitate before getting up as well. 

 “Hey.” Lance reached out and touched the other’s bare back. He forget what he wanted to say because, this was allowed, to touch. 

 Keith pulled away though and started to slip on his wet clothes. 

 Lance stood up too and asked confused, “Wait, what are you doing?” 

“Leaving.” Keith stood facing away from him and was struggling to pull on his soaked jeans. 

“Why? I want you to stay.” He didn’t understand. Did Keith not want this—him?

The rain poured down harder and drowned his breathing. Keith looked over his shoulder at him and something about it broke Lance’s heart. He stepped closer and grabbed at Keith’s arm. The other boy turned and then they were hugging. 

Between the hugging and the rain letting up, they ended up back in Lance’s bed, this time both in pajamas. They faced each other on their sides again. Keith wiped at his wet eyes with the overly long sleeve from Lance’s pajama top he wore. Lance’s stomach spiked with anxiety because Keith was crying, god, how bad he been. 

“Sorry...it’s just, I thought you didn’t like me.” Keith smiled all watery. 

Lance wanted to groan because Keith was maddening sometimes, instead he blurted out what he felt. “But—I—Keith we just kissed...and other stuff. Of course I like you. I like you a lot.” 

“Oh.” Surprise and insecurity crossed Keith’s face and Lance chased it away by kissing him. 

They whispered their confessions and didn’t blush. Lance gave Keith his deepest secret and trusted him to hold it as gently as he held his hand. Keith gave him his love and hoped Lance would return it. Maybe it was because it was dark, or because the rain thundered down around them, or even because they whispered so close together like they used to as kids, but they didn’t look away from each other. 

 Keith drifted off to sleep first, but Lance fought off sleep just enough so he could look at his best friend. He looked and marveled and fell asleep too. When he woke up his hand was still in Keith’s. 

 

17

The setting sun cast a dim glow that lit the tree house in a soft haze. Lance flicked on two battery powered camp lights and watched the inside brighten up. He looked around and straightened up a lopsided candle that stuck from the top of a chocolate cake. It had taken him the whole afternoon, but he’d baked it from scratch, and it even came out smelling good. The ‘happy anniversary’ written across the top was a little wonky, but it gave the cake character.

 He swiped his palms along his jeans and tried to calm down. It was fine, they had been on tons of dates before, this was just another date. Except it was their one year anniversary. A year since that wet, breathless confession that still made Lance smile goofily to himself whenever he thought about it. 

Lance turned right as Keith pulled himself up from the ladder. They locked eyes at the same time and grinned. Without a word they met in the middle and kissed, Lance bent down while Keith tilted up—even going on tiptoe—and met with soft, assure lips and tender confidence. 

Keith pulled away first and smiled up at Lance. His gaze alight with affection that stole Lance’s breath and made him clear his throat enough to say, “Hey.”

“Hey.” Keith flicked his eyes away in order to look around and his expression grew curious. “What is all this?”

Lance didn’t care if Keith never remembered specifics, like dates, when it came to their relationship. He preferred it, because it allowed him to light the candle atop the anniversary cake and watch the look of surprise on Keith’s face. A look that passed from surprised to worried and finally settled on soft wonderment.

“It’s our anniversary today?” Anxiety crept into Keith’s voice and Lance laughed it away by dabbing some chocolate icing across his nose.

 “Yeah, I mean...it’s the day we confessed to each other. If you want to get technical our first date at the ice rink is probably the official anniversary. But I wanted to celebrate today.”

Keith scrunched his nose and wiped the icing off. “I—sorry, I didn’t do anything…”

With a shake of his head, Lance set the cake down and took Keith’s hand to lace their fingers together. “I don’t care about the dates and stuff. I just wanted to tell you thanks...you make me happy.” He had to swallow because he did not want to cry. That was totally _not_ romantic. 

 Keith laughed, shaky, and pulled on Lance’s hands until he could rest his head against the other’s chest. Lance felt Keith shake and panicked because his boyfriend was crying! Why was he crying!? 

 “Keith—are you okay?” His voice cracked and he grabbed Keith’s shoulders to push him back in order to see him. Keith wasn’t crying much and wiped away his tears with the back of his hand. Lance was beyond confused and worried, especially at the watery laugh Keith let out. 

 “I’m fine—I’m...thank you. God, I love you.” There it was. Lance’s breath caught and Keith blushed so hard his ears turned red. 

 Lance didn’t hesitate, his fingers tightened on Keith’s shoulders, and with all the sincerity he possessed he whispered back, “I love you.” 

There was no need for ‘too,’ because it was a given. Lance had loved Keith the moment the other boy had walked over and glared at him. It didn’t matter how that love started, as the love of a child born from friendship and familiarity—because he still loved Keith that way—but it had grown. With each soft word and gentle touch and the closeness of friendship, Lance loved Keith in the all the ways he could. 

Their confessions dropped into the air and left them both speechless. The silence filled the space between them until their lips met in kisses that were all smiles. The cake sat forgotten, to be eaten later, while they retraced every kiss they ever shared.  

Keith grasped at Lance’s shirt and pulled it off of him. This wasn’t uncommon, they had spent so many nights hidden in his room or even up in the tree house touching and kissing and finding that masterbating was so much better with another person. 

Keith started with kisses. A brush of lips that trailed down his neck just light enough to tickle. Lance laughed and it brought a smile to Keith’s lips that he used to press against Lance’s chest next. Somewhere in all the kissing, Lance’s clothes had come off and so had Keith’s. He loved to feel Keith pressed against him, naked skin against his. He loved it even more because Keith let go; he could touch and taste and feel and Keith would relax and give him everything. 

They had never gone further than touching and getting each other off. Part of it was because Lance did not want to lose his virginity while his parents and siblings slept in the same house, the other part was because Lance wasn’t sure who would do what and what would go where and—he was nervous. But it was happening and Lance felt the first trickle of sweat run down his back. Because this was really happening and he’d dreamt about it for ages, but dreaming of it and actually doing it were two different things. 

Keith had come prepared with a small packet of lube and Lance was floored. It looked like a wet wipe package but definitely said lube on it. He looked at the packet in Keith’s hand and wondered if he had remembered their anniversary after all.

 “Why do you have lube?”

“Oh, uh—” Keith fumbled with the packet in his hand and glanced away. “The group home gives us lube and condoms...they’d rather we have safe sex than pretend we’re not having any at all.” 

“Oh.” It made sense, sort of. “Wait, have you just been carrying lube around this whole time?” 

Keith shrugged and his expression shifted to his default glare. He used it whenever he felt uncomfortable or nervous, Lance knew that and didn’t hold it against him. “Yeah—I mean I just stuck it in my wallet and forgot about it until...now.” 

The haughty expression made Lance smile and before Keith could get into his head and over think things, Lance leaned in for a kiss. Everything fell together from there. 

It was a touch more of fumbling than pleasure but that was Lance’s undoing. It hurt, because of course it did, Lance hadn’t planned for this, and maybe Keith had with the lube—which had gotten everywhere—but it still hurt. It hurt, until it became a bearable pain, and then Keith fumbled for him and grasped him with oil-slick hands. There really wasn’t a rhythm and Lance was breathing too hard, gasping too much, but Keith didn’t seemed to mind. Rather, Keith pumped his hips, slow, hard, and stroked him off at the same time. Keith whispered how much he loved Lance, how good he felt, and he cursed, harsh and low near Lance’s ear that drove him insane. Finally, Keith clutched Lance’s hand and gave an almost silent groan before he came. Lance used his free hand to grasp at Keith’s ass and pull him in tighter to him. His cock brushed against Keith’s abdomen and that was all he need to come too, in hot spurts, that coated his stomach and smeared on Keith’s from how close they lay pressed together. It was a bliss that left Lance floating, much like the first time. When he opened his eyes, not realizing he’d closed them in the moment, he was met with Keith’s gaze. 

They stared at each other, the silence only punctuated by their breathing. Lance slid his hand up from Keith’s ass and along the ridge’s of the other’s spine. He counted the bones offhandedly until he curled his fingers into black strands of Keith’s hair. It had grown out from the mullet just enough that all of it could fit into a ponytail now. Without guidance, Keith leaned in and they kissed, more muted this time but just as tender. 

The cake got eaten somewhere in the night after a nap that turned into another session of kissing, just kissing, and some late night talking. Lance had two pieces and Keith ate the rest. At dawn they fell asleep in their combined sleeping bag, like they used to as children, with all remnants of lube packets and cake thrown out in case discovered. 

That still didn’t stop Marisa from snapping a picture of them, curled up together (back in their clothes of course), and running to show their mom. His mother said he didn’t need to be so upset, “it was cute that they were really good friends.” She had winked at Lance, he sputtered a protest, and Keith went home with a permanent blush. Lance publicly protested it all, but secretly sent it to himself later. 

And Lance really didn’t mind much later, when Keith sent him a simple text that night.

**Keith:** I love you 

 

 18

Lance stood near the sink, the counter digging into his back, and inhaled sharply. He’d promised himself once school ended and his final summer before college started, he’d tell his parents. This was it and the anxiety was killing him. 

 “Mom.” 

 His mother looked at him from where she stood stirring milk, coconut, and various other things in a large bowl to make one of his favorite desserts for his graduation party; coquitos.   

 “Yes, _Mijo_?” 

His hands fidgeted at his sides and with his eyes closed tight he spoke loud and fast. 

“IMGAY.”

The moment he said it his shoulders slumped in relief. He kept his eyes closed, better to not see the look on his mother’s face. He heard rather than saw his mother walk toward him. Arms wrapped around him, firm, comforting—like all the times before when his mother hugged him—and he finally was brave enough to look. His vision blurred, suddenly all watery, and he cried, this time only a little. 

His mother kissed his forehead, having to cup his face and pull him down to do so, and laughed. It was a mother’s laugh full of love and a knowledge that Lance still didn’t understand.

“Thank you for telling me. I love you. And I already know.” 

 Lance fought back a blush and also a sputter. “You do! How!? Wait—does dad know?” 

 His mother nodded and wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Yes, you can tell him if you like. I think he’d want you to.” 

 He wanted to feel indignant, because this was not how coming out stories were supposed to go, or not like any of the movies he watched. He at least expected disappointment.  

In the end, he told his father and his siblings, and even Pidge and Hunk’s families when they came over. Everyone smiled and said congratulations for graduating. But none of them seemed surprised when he said he loved another boy who happened to be his best friend, they just smiled knowingly and gave him hugs. None of it turned out like he expected and it filled him with a bit of wonder, a bit of pride, and a lot of love. 

When Keith showed up and found out what Lance had done he cornered him near the upstairs bathroom and kissed him. Marisa’s giggles pulled them apart. The entire party Lance couldn’t stop smiling.

 

 *

Keith stood in a bright red graduation gown. Hunk and Pidge and several other kids swarmed around him. Lance had graduated the day before, all in blue, and he’d run out of the mass of falling graduation caps to find his family and Keith. The hugs had been long, his mom’s kisses and tears even longer, and the overwhelming pictures never ending. But Keith had stood by and smiled the whole time, which meant Lance couldn’t stop smiling either. Even through the embarrassing photos his mom took of them, though he secretly enjoyed. There was even one he wanted framed; with Keith sporting Lance’s cap and Lance joyfully grasping Keith’s hands in his as he told him about how they’d spend their summer together before college. 

As Lance neared, Hunk and Pidge waved before wandering off, and several of the other kids said goodbye before disappearing into the crowd too. Lance’s family were still making their way through the crowd, so it gave them a moment alone. Lance beamed, because he was happy and proud, and brimming with all the reasons he loved Keith. One of them was the nervous little smile Keith flashed him—being the center of attention was something he didn’t crave or want—and Lance loved him for it. Not because Keith didn’t deserve all that attention, he just loved it because it was so totally Keith. 

“Congratulations!” Lance wanted to reach out and take Keith’s hand, so he did. It made him blush, because it was Keith and Keith always made him blush. Maybe he’d get over it, but for now he didn’t care. Keith squeezed his hand and his smile transformed into the one he only gave Lance. Soft, intimate, the one that held the memories of their lives together. 

“Thanks. I’m glad you’re here.” 

And, god, Keith smiled at him and all Lance could do was gawk. He probably looked like an idiot but he didn’t care. Keith didn’t either, because he grasped Lance by the shoulders and made him bend down so they could kiss. They were kissing in public and Lance was going to have a panic attack—what if others saw? But then Keith stroked the back of his neck and Lance remembered it didn’t matter. All the most important people in his life knew that he loved his best friend. 

He loved Keith and Keith loved him, and right then, it was all that mattered. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Really this fic should've been titled how many times can Lance say Keith? lol Anyway, this is my first fic over 10k and my first klance fic and oooh boy was it a challenge. Props to all the other writers, because I envy ya'll and don't know how you can write this much. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and hope you check out the other entries!


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